Rain
by ClevernessRenamed
Summary: McWeir oneshot set after The Eye. It was raining. Very hard, in fact. Almost as hard as last week’s hurricane, which many of the expedition members marked up as one of many experiences that they didn’t want to face again.


Rain

A/N: Several hours of viding and I think the Eye is on repeat in my head with shippy music. There was this line in the song that says "This is the way… that I say… I love you." Really quietly and I loved it. (shockingly, I put a scene from the Eye there:O) And then I really wanted to write a fic. So here it is.

Disclaimer: You really wanna ask that question? Is it worth your life?

It was raining. Very hard, in fact. Almost as hard as last week's hurricane, which many of the expedition members marked up as one of those many experiences that they never wanted to face again. At the moment it was ranking fairly high, placing it snugly beside 'waking up the Wraith' and 'pissing off the Genii.' The last one was particularly fresh on their minds, still smarting over how close they had come to losing everything they had worked so hard for.

The heavy rain that disturbed the waters below with thick droplets was most likely the leftovers from the storm, or so Rodney had informed them that morning, probably in an effort to quell their fears for another catastrophic hurricane (it would just be their luck that they happened to come in at just the right year for this). Although they had survived the last couple of days in the calm, it seemed like the rain had returned with a bit of a grudge, pouring hard and fast and causing the usual balcony goers to sit at their respective window sills, wishing it would stop.

Elizabeth was one of them. A very avid balcony goer, she tended to spend most of her free afternoons watching the sunset or simply gazing at the normally tranquil water below her feet, marvelling at the fact that she could do such a thing – stand on a balcony of one of the most famous lost cities of Earth and stare into the waters they were floating on. And she'd been doing just that when the first signs of clouds had appeared, inclining her to run inside as the first drops of rain pattered on her jacket.

She'd been rather disheartened for the rest of the day as the rain continued and had announced that she was retiring to her quarters early, to which everyone had simply nodded carelessly. They'd had been more concerned about how much damage the waters were doing to the city, which, as it turned out, was none at all. She didn't mind; after all, the city, _their home_, was number one priority to her and everyone else. The only reason she hadn't been very concerned was because she had been assured by both Rodney and Radek that nothing would be wrong, that it was a hard rain to be sure, but the flooding wouldn't damage much more than what had already been damaged.

The only one who noticed her slipping away to her quarters early at all was Rodney, who'd just given her that "are you alright" look she was becoming very used to seeing nowadays. The look that _everyone_ seemed to be giving her as of late, as though she would fall apart any second. She was beginning to feel atrociously sick of it, especially as the _leader_ of this expedition and as someone who took pride in being able to take care of herself, but somehow, she didn't mind it so much when it came from the astrophysicist, possibly because she knew that his look was not one of pity, but of normal, friendly concern. Rodney, at the very least, understood that she had no need for pity.

Letting out an exasperated sigh that nothing but the windows heard, she propped her chin in her hand and stared longingly outside, watching the heavy drops patter against the thick glass. The constant splatter of the rain bordered on soporific, but she found it calming, soothing. Everyone thought that she must be petrified of it now, with all the bad memories it was connected to, of fear, of helplessness, of desperation, but she didn't feel any of it. Certainly, it had been the first truly life-threatening situation she had been in beyond the arrival in a drowning city and she would be lying if she didn't admit that had been terrified, but…

It all seemed to fade away into Rodney. Every time she thought of that gun pointed at her chest, of the shock at seeing the weapon so close with nothing to protect her, the fear that her life now hung on the simple squeeze of a finger of a man who would do anything to get what he wanted, her mind seemed to immediately recall the memory of Rodney stepping in front of her, mangled arm and all, demanding that they needed her.

It was reaching 10 pm, she thought absently to herself. That meant the halls would be a little emptier by now. Not by much, but enough for her not to run into anyone while she wandered, trying to appease the restlessness of her mind with movement.

Except for the military personnel currently on duty and the workaholic scientists, most people were usually asleep by now, not caring when their friends berated them for going to bed too early. Sleep was precious in Atlantis. People took what they got.

She wondered, idly and inevitably, if Rodney had any sleep at all in the past few days. Knowing him, most likely not, but even she had gotten several nights rest, if only purely on Carson's demands and the sleeping pills he had forced into her hands. She took them every night, but they hadn't entirely helped, and she still shifted restlessly in the darkness even after having taken them. It was not unlikely that the doctor make the same demand of Rodney, though Rodney had probably just thrown the pills away with a scoff and a glare. For the moment, at least, they were not alone. Most of the expedition had circles under their eyes, telling stories about long stares into the darkness, waiting for their minds to calm down They were all still in a state of paranoia at the moment, ready to jump in case of another disaster and she couldn't blame them. She still felt the prickling of nerves in her skin every time her comm crackled to life, terrified that it would be to inform her of even worse news. Of more people who had died.

Lifting herself off the floor, she brushed down her uniform trousers and waved her hand over the glowing panel on the wall. The door opened contently and unassumingly, and at the brush of freezing air, she grabbed her jacket on the way out. Looking around to see if the way was empty, she turned a corner into a path that people didn't seem to take often.

The plus side about wandering the halls late at night was that it was very easy to find paths that no one had ever noticed before, making navigation around the city much easier. And after several months of doing just that, she was fairly certain she knew the place like the back of her hand. Although the area in which she walked now was most definitely powered up, she had never seen many people around here at all. Not that she minded. If people knew about it, then she probably wouldn't visit as often.

These halls in particular were so unnoticed by the rest of the expedition that not even a single soldier guarded its corners, which was a fact that made her feel rather relieved. She had always felt rather uncomfortable with their presence, though she knew it was an absolute necessity, what with the difficult political situation they were in with most of the Pegasas Galaxy. But even knowing that it was their job to watch over the place like hawks, observing and observing without tire, she just couldn't relax around them. She knew a lot of them by now, by their names and their stories, but it didn't make her feel any more at ease. It always niggled at her mind that someday it might be _her_ they were watching, specifically, staring at her for any hint of aberration in her behaviour.

Turning another corner, she was suddenly greeted by the sound of the crashing waves that she had gotten very familiar with recently. It took only a cursory glance to see a balcony door open, completely drenching the floor immediately in front of it with water that was spreading out to other parts of the hall. She felt her shoulder stiffen, furious as to who could be so _incredibly_ cavalier after what they had gone through to keep this city safe, to keep _them_ safe. Without thinking, she walked right through the threshold, completely forgetting that it was pouring buckets outside, flattening her hair to her head immediately. Spotting what she assumed to be the object of her anger standing out on the balcony, she stalked toward them with her best Leader of Atlantis stride, wondering if they were slightly crazy, being in the rain like this.

She squinted with some difficulty through the drops that threatened to hit her eyes, trying to figure out who it was. He turned his head a little and she did a double take.

None other than Rodney McKay was leaning comfortably on the balcony, seemingly completely ignorant of the pounding rain and the freezing cold that was surely seeping into his jacket by now.

Stepping cautiously towards him, she wondered what he was doing here and if he was actually entirely out of his mind. Even having stepped into the rain just a minute ago, she was already absolutely freezing and the strong gale of wind didn't help, sending shudders up her chest every time it rushed over her. If Carson found out about this, Rodney would never be able to leave the infirmary for at least another week. He'd already spent a couple of days stranded there while Carson fussed over his arm injury, though according to the doctor, it hadn't severed any important nerves, a fact which the man had described as a "bloody miracle". Unfortunately, the gash had been bigger than expected, despite Rodney's claims to the opposite, and he had been detained from doing any work, which, Carson had reported, was a very difficult feat to accomplish without strapping the man down.

Sometimes she really didn't understand Rodney. He liked to whine and moan about the smallest things, but when it came down to it, when it was something serious, he wouldn't say a word. Which didn't exactly strengthen his relationship with Carson, what with his insistent denials to any severe injuries and only staying still when Carson threatened him with needles.

Finally coming to a stop beside him, she pulled her jacket closer to her chest, in a useless attempt to shield herself a bit more from the rain. It didn't do much to stop the water from trickling down her back.

Rodney twitched his head in her direction; the only sign that he'd noticed her at all and continued looking back out at the thrashing waters.

They stood in silence for a while, listening to the thundering rain rapping angrily against hard metal and the crashing of waves as they hit the walls of the city below.

Getting uncomfortable at the silence, Elizabeth spoke with the only thing that came to her mind. "Nice day." she half yelled over the noise.

She couldn't hear him, but she saw Rodney snort in response. "Oh yeah. Fantastic weather," he called back with some difficulty. Turning his head, he looked at her properly for the first time, looking her up and down as she clutched her soaking jacket tightly to herself, wondering why in a universe where they had Stargates, P90s and the highest level of scientific equipment, they hadn't really thought about waterproof jackets. After a short pause, he looked back out at the sea. "Don't you want to go inside?"

"Don't you?" she shot back.

He seemed to think for a moment and shook his head. "Not really."

"It's freezing."

"And did I mention you have fantastic observation skills?"

"You're going to catch a cold."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't care."

"What are you doing out here?"

"I like it out here."

"Are you joking?"

"Nope."

She sighed in frustration and listened as the storm swallowed up the sound with enthusiasm. She had to figure out a way to get him inside before he caught hypothermia or something. No, scratch that. She had to figure out a way to get them both inside before they iboth/i got hypothermia and died out here. Somehow she didn't think Atlantis would be too thrilled when they found their expedition leader and chief scientist dead on a balcony because the latter was too stubborn to go inside.

Exhaling tiredly, she felt herself deflate a little as she looked around.

It was a rather big balcony; almost identical to the grounding station they had spent most of that memorable and nerve-wracking day, except for the fact that it lacked the grounding station. There was no column or panel anywhere in sight, just a very wide space with metal railings covering the sides that over looked the ocean.

Even so, she couldn't help but remember something that he'd said to her.

_If this doesn't work…_

_It will._

_But if it doesn't..._

"Rodney?"

"Present."

"What were you going to say to me?"

"When?"

"At the grounding station, when you were worried it wouldn't work." Rodney looked at her in such surprise and seriousness that she had to force herself not to look at her feet in embarrassment, though what she was embarrassed about, she wasn't entirely sure. "I was just curious." She added, shrugging as normally as she could under the circumstances.

He turned away from her and stared silently at the clouds in the distance, before turning back around and placing a hand on one of her shaking shoulders. "Let's go inside. Carson will probably kill us if we stay outside too long."

She fought off the urge to quip that they had been outside for much too long already and nodded dumbly, letting him lead her inside.

"I knew I forgot something." He commented lightly as he saw the pool of water collecting around the door as it slid shut. "Who's going to clean that up?" he asked no one in particular. She rolled her eyes quietly, and decided to wait until tomorrow to tell him that it would be _him_ cleaning it up, since it was his fault in the first place.

Instead, she said, "Rodney?"

He didn't let her repeat her question. "It doesn't really matter now." Stopping in front of her door, he swiped his hand over the console and ushered her inside. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Rodney."

"It doesn't matter. Really."

"What were you going to say? Just tell me." Her mind prickled with curiosity, only incensed by his refusal to tell her.

He stared at the ground for a good three minutes, making her wonder if he'd finally gone and passed out on his feet from lack of sleep and pneumonia. When he finally spoke, she just barely caught it. "I was going to say…"

Everything seemed to take a breath and hold it. Or, at least, she did.

"There you two are!"

The tension suddenly broken, Rodney stepped back, distancing himself from her in an instinctive nature that said "Ididntdoanything."

She glared at him. Typical Rodney.

"Where the bloody hell have you been? You look like a pair of drowned rats!" Carson's furious voice yelled at them from the other side of the corridor as Rodney rolled his eyes and made a movement to flee. Carson's voice immediately took a more threatening tone. "If you _bloody move_, Rodney, I'll be sticking needles into a places you'd rather not talk about."

She couldn't help but grinning at Rodney's defeated face as Carson approached them.

Narrowing his eyes at her grin, he suddenly turned to the doctor and commented cheerfully, "I'm fine, Carson, but Elizabeth was shaking when I brought her in. She must've been out there for ages. You, uh, might want to get her checked out."

Her look of amusement turned to a look of betrayal as her mind processed what he'd just said. She could have sworn he stuck out a tongue at her for a second, but it was gone so fast she vaguely wondered if she imagined it.

"Now wait a minute, I wasn't-…"

"Alright, lass. I'm taking you down to the infirmary." She felt a firm grip get a hold of her arm, but she was too busy glaring at Rodney for his completely and utter treachery to notice until she found herself heading away from his gaze.

And just as she passed him, he leaned forward, his lips almost brushing her ear as she slipped past.

In an almost inaudible whisper that only she could hear, she finally got her answer.

"I love you."

A/N: You may say I'm odd, but for a shippy writer, I hate writing those three words into a fic. It can turn a good fic into a sappy one and so I have a lot of trouble trying to fit it in there without making it sound clichéd. Which I failed, but hell. 1 am and I don't care! Why? Insomnia of course! It messes with your brain and eats at your writing abilities.

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